


this is how galaxies collide

by airplanewishes



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Brother Feels, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Canon Compliant, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Forgiveness, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Post-Canon, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26184298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airplanewishes/pseuds/airplanewishes
Summary: Booker wants to come home.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Everyone, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Everyone
Comments: 15
Kudos: 274





	this is how galaxies collide

Booker doesn't realize it at first. He doesn't really notice much of anything these days. Since he's been back, 50 years earlier than any of them planned, he's been focusing on trying to get his reintegration to the team right. To him, that means waking up earlier than everyone, making some semblance of breakfast, which to him is mostly toast with eggs or with fruit or any jam or spread he can get his hands on, and then getting on with his day. Usually, that means preparing the weapons they'd probably need for the day. He cleans all the guns, Nicky's sword, Joe's scimitar, Andy's labrys, and then lines them up by the door, where they're easy to grab when they leave. He also tidies up the kitchen and the living room as best he can, taking and keeping, to return later, any personal effects the others may have left lying around. Mostly, it's Nicky's books and Joe's sketchpad. On their down times from missions, Booker would make breakfast, tidy up the living areas, and then go for a walk or go for a walk and then hang out some place where he can be alone.

It's still a lonely life, if Booker had to admit it to anyone. But he would never say it out loud. He doesn't want the others to think he hasn't changed. He doesn't want to worry anyone about his loneliness and make them think that he might betray them again because of it. He wouldn't. He would never. If he had the chance, Booker would take back the last 50 years. He would never have entertained Copley it if he knew it would give him this, Andy being wary around him, Nicky being careful, and Joe barely speaking to him. Nile is the only who ever really talks to him, like really talk. She tells him all about the things she's been learning, the fighting techniques Andy has been training her with or the books, historical facts and stories that Nicky and Joe have been sharing with her. Booker appreciates that Nile is trying with him. But it's probably just because she hasn't fully gotten to know what he's like. Booker has only been back a few days so he knows it's going to take a while for them to adjust to him being around. Besides, he gets it. He's not exactly a joy to be around. Still, being around them instead of being by himself is better.

It’s good to know, though, that they are still able to work seamlessly together. Booker was worried about his first mission back with them. They'd needed to infiltrate some corporation and retrieve a device and information pertaining to it because, of course, it was going to be weaponized and potentially kill millions of people. He had wondered whether they'd trust him and listen to him when he laid out the plan and all the entries and escape routes. There were no objections and it all worked out. When it came to it, they still had Booker's back. That's really the most that he's hoped for when Andy and Nile came to see him in his apartment in Lyon and told him that, if he wanted, he could come back earlier. Booker accepted without any questions asked.

If Booker is to be honest, he prefers doing missions. Missions do not require unnecessary interactions and conversations between him and the others and makes Booker forget that none of them really talk to him. Sure he's back, but it's not the same, which is something he's come to accept the moment he saw how betrayed Andy felt when he told him what he did. Things will probably never be the same and he's going to have to live with that.

So yeah, Booker doesn't really notice that anything's off, aside from the fact that his loneliness might be compounded by the fact that, while he may have been invited back into the fold, they haven't invited him back into their hearts.

Today's one of those down times. Booker gets up, fixes his bed, freshens up, and makes his way to the kitchen. He wonders if they have some pasta. It's something he's been thinking about making for the others since he got back. Nicky always love a good pasta. Joe loves Nicky. Andy doesn't usually care, as long as they're able to eat something. Nile would probably enjoy anything, too. Booker searches the cupboards for some pasta and whatever ingredients he can find. He smiles a little when he finds lots of tomatoes, from which he can make some tomato sauce from.

Booker takes all the ingredients out and puts them on the table. After which, he grabs a cooking pot and puts water on it to boil. He then takes the tomatoes out and starts with the sauce. He isn't really much of a cook, preferring to let Nicky or Joe or anyone else, to be honest, to do the entertaining. It's easy to let everyone else to things because no one expects much from him.

"Are you making pasta?"

Booker jumps and cuts himself. He watches the blood pearl and then slide down his finger and to the table.

"Shit," Nile hisses. She rushes towards him. "I'm sorry."

Booker merely smiles at her. "You're getting good at sneaking up on people," he remarks.

"That wasn't my intention," Nile assures him, sounding really apologetic.

"It's just a cut," he reminds her. "I've had my guts hanging out in the open before, remember?"

"But that wasn't because of me," she says. "Besides, a wound is a wound. It doesn't matter that we heal." She grabs a tissue, touches his wrist, and starts dabbing on his injured finger.

Booker inhales and flinches the moment Nile's hand touches his skin.

It doesn't go unnoticed. "I'm sorry," Nile is quick to say, taking her hand off of his.

"Sorry, it stings," Booker lies, shaking his hand a little. His finger doesn't really hurt, but his hand is tingling. He's not exactly sure why, confused as to what happened just now. He glares at his hand and wills it to stop prickling. "It's fine now. Thank you. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure--" Nile starts.

"Yeah," Booker cuts her off. He glances at the door and then at the pasta.

"I can finish up here," Nile offers. She looks at what he's done so far. All she has to do is put the sauce in a separate pan and then mix the pasta with it.

"Great, okay, thanks," Booker says. He reaches up to pat her on the back, but decides against it. Nile raises her eyebrows. He presses his lips together, wondering if he should say something. "Right," he mutters, deciding against it.

Booker walks out of the kitchen and into the backyard just as Nicky walks in. He faintly hears him asking what's going on before he's hurrying to the woods. This is where he would normally spend his time after making breakfast and tidying up a bit. He'd bring a book and read or he'd swim in the lake or just take a nap. It gives him a lot of time to reflect. He's had 50 years to do that, but it's not something he can stop thinking about. He knows he was let off easy with just 100 years of exile, even more now that he's back in just 50. It makes Booker sad that none of the others feel like they can trust him anymore, but he gets it. It's warranted. He wouldn't trust him either. He supposes that he just misses them, misses the old days, when they'd all hang out on their days off, watch television, cook together, eat together. They don't really do that anymore. It's probably because they don't want Booker to feel excluded, which he would be because he doesn't think he's welcome during any group activity right now.

Booker sits by the lake, his back to a tree trunk and stares at his hand. His finger is healed now, the blood staining his finger red. He closes his hand into a fist and then opens them again. The tingling is gone, but he can still feel the ghost of Nile's touch. It was weird. He can't really explain the feeling. It wasn't that it was unwelcome. It was just new, and weird. Strangely enough, he kind of hopes it will happen again.

Booker breaks his leg during the next mission. It takes a while for it to heal and it's so painful that he actually feels like crying. Joe is the one who carries him into the safe house. He carefully puts him down on the couch and tears his pants so that they could see what they were dealing with, which doesn't really matter because it would heal itself anyway. It's just one of those moments where he'd have to really feel the pain because bigger wounds take longer to heal. He clenches his whole body, hoping it would ease the pain, but it doesn't help. Nile hovers nearby, looking helpless.

"Booker, what do you need?" Nile asks. "What can we do?"

"I'm fine," Booker grunts, clenching his fists. "Just..." He waves at them.

Nicky takes Booker's gloves off without him noticing. He only realizes that it's off when he feels Nicky's hand on his. Just like with Nile, he gasps when Nicky holds his hand. Nicky's hand is rough, probably due to all the fighting, but it's warm and comforting. His face burns at the embarrassment of being caught by surprise, unable to hold his emotions back. To avoid further embarrassment, he shakes Nicky's hand off and crosses his arms across his chest. He also closes his eyes so he can't see their expressions.

"Sorry," Nicky whispers, pulling back from where he's crouched beside the couch. "I didn't mean--"

"It's fine," Booker grumbles, opening his eyes to look at him. The last thing he wants is to further offend Nicky. "You're fine. Sorry, I'm just--"

"You don't need to apologize," Nicky assures him. He looks up at Joe, who's standing beside him and looking at Booker with a frown on his face.

"Why don't we give him some space?" Andy suggests from the kitchen. "Nile, why don't you prepare some clothes for him to change into later on and prepare some blankets for him?" Nile nods and leaves for the bedroom. "Joe, I need you to check the back just to be sure," she continues. Joe nods, lingers a glance at Booker, squeezes Nicky's shoulder and then he's out of the house. "Nicky, do you want to get started on dinner or should I?" she then asks.

"No, please don't," Nicky is quick to say. Andy rolls her eyes and goes to the bedroom that Nile didn't go into. He stands up, still looking at Booker. "Book," he quietly says. He reaches out for his hand, but stops when Booker shakes his head. "Okay." He then straightens up and goes to the kitchen.

Booker breathes out a sigh of relief, uncrossing his arms. He's not sure what's going on as he opens and closes his hands. He's never been averse to touch, although it's been a while since he's been touched that meant anything of value. It just feels weird when it happens, and it's weird that it's happening with the others. He's always welcomed it when it came to them. They're his family and he's always been willing to take what they can give him.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he feels that his leg has completed its healing. Booker sits up on the couch and glares at his leg. Of all the things to happen, he just had to make himself a liability. Injuries always put a strain on the team because that's one additional thing to watch out for when they're already trying to look in all directions for threats. Booker doesn't mind it when the others get injured, though, as long as its not him. Aside from the fact that they don't die, Booker is big enough to shield them or carry them to safety when necessary. That was one of his mission jobs. Being big and burly had its uses.

The warm shower water is welcome. Booker scrubs off all the blood, sweat and grime off of him. It's been a long day and there's a lot that he wants to shed, a lot that he's been wanting to shed for a long time now. He lifts his hands and looks at it. He hopes that whatever this weird thing that's happening is, he hopes it goes away soon. He can't give the others one more thing to worry about.

It starts raining a lot. It rains while Booker is out on one of the afternoons when he's decided to read by the lake. He tries to wait it out under the shade of a huge tree. But when the sky just becomes darker and the rain falls harder, he ends up having to run back home and ends up getting soaked. He has the chills by the time he reaches the house. He takes his shoes and shirt off when he enters, hoping that he doesn't create too many water puddles. The television is on in the living room, Joe and Nile watching some action movie. They both look up when he passes, his arms around him as he tries to keep himself warm.

"Sorry," Booker says, his teeth chattering. "Don't mind me."

Joe frowns, glancing at the window, where the raindrops are blurring it, then back at him, just as Nile exclaims, "You're going to get sick."

"I'm going to shower it off," Booker says, waving her off.

He makes his way to the bathroom. He drops his wet shirt on the floor and unbuttons his pants. Walking to the sink, he washes his hands, wets his face, and then proceeds to take his pants off so he could shower.

It helps, but Booker still feels cold so he looks for a sweater after he's done showering and dressing up. For some reason, all he has are shirts and it's crazy how he never cared much about wardrobe until now. Maybe Nicky has an extra he could borrow. When he turns towards the door, Joe is standing there with a folded grey sweater in his hand.

"This might help," Joe offers, walking into the room and handing the sweater to him.

Booker takes it. "Thanks," he replies softly.

Joe smiles a little and pats Booker on the arm, his fingers touching the skin above Booker's elbow. Booker flinches and steps away before he could think of what he was doing. Joe puts his hands up and takes a step back, startled at Booker's reaction.

"Sorry," Booker is quick to say, clearing his throat. "I was just surprised. Your hands are cold." He unfolds the sweater so that he could put it on, hoping that Joe would just leave it at that. However, Joe steps closer to him, rubbing his hands together to warm them up, and then slowly places one of them on Booker's forearm. Booker inhales sharply, dropping the sweater to the floor at Joe's touch. "What--" Booker starts, but he's cut off by Joe's hand loosening on his forearm and then traveling down to his hand. "What are you doing?" he rasps.

"Does it hurt?" Joe asks, his brows furrowed as he watches the way Booker stiffens, the hairs on his arm standing.

Booker's efforts to not give any reactions are obviously failing. But no it doesn't hurt. None of their touches have hurt. In fact, now that he's thought about it some more. It might be because he likes them too much. It's been a while since he's hand any meaningful contact with anyone. Fifty years is a long time to not be touched. When he'd been exiled, Booker decided that he wasn't going to let go of all his vices. No drinking, no not eating, no hollow connections. It was easier that way. It would be tougher if he got attached to anyone or if anyone started getting attached to him.

"No," Booker admits with a shaky breath.

Joe lifts his face towards him, his mouth opening in realization and surprise. Booker squeezes his eyes shut.

"Book--" Joe starts. He tightens his hand on Booker's hand, but Booker snatches his hand away.

"Thank you for the sweater," Booker tells him, taking several steps away from him. He can't do this. He can't do this to Joe of all people. There is so much they haven't dealt with, so much they haven't discussed. There's no way he's adding to the list of problems he's caused for him, Nicky, Andy, and Nile.

"Booker," Joe tries again.

"Joe, please," Booker insists, shaking his head.

"Is everything okay?" Nicky asks from the doorway. Joe turns to him for a second, lips pressed together, before turning back to look at Booker.

"Please," Booker repeats in a whisper, averting his gaze to the floor.

Joe breathes deeply and nods. Then he turns and takes Nicky's hand, pulling him out and away from Booker's room. Booker stand there for a few seconds, watching them disappear down the hall. He picks up the sweater from the floor and sits on the edge of the bed. This is ridiculous. The last thing he wants is to be needy and ask for more than what the others can give. And he can't ask them of this of all things. He can't even ask anything from them right now. He shouldn't. This would just be too much. He buries his face in the sweater. It smells like Nicky, and Joe, like freshly washed laundry out on a sunny day. Booker puts it down, setting it aside on the corner of the bed. He can't wear that. It's too close. It just makes him miss them even more. He lies down on the bed, wrapping the sheets around him, and tries to go to sleep.

Booker had hoped that it wouldn't be an issue, that none of them would bring them up. He supposed that was too much to ask for. It's understandable, though, that they would ask questions. If it were the other way around, he'd be curious, too. He'd be worried. Which is just what he's hoping they are. Booker hopes it's not because they think he's a freak.

He takes a deep breath before he walks out of his room. There is no use avoiding the inevitable. He's going to have to come into contact with them one way or another. Might as well rip the band-aid off in one go. He grips the doorknob. The worst thing that can happen is that they ask him to leave again. Booker can do that. He has 50 more years to go anyway. He can still honor that agreement if that's what they wish.

When Booker enters the kitchen, however, it's empty. So is the living room. He lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. This gives him more time. Or maybe this is an opportunity for him to slip out and leave without them noticing. It'll be a cowardly move, but it's not like they don't think it of him anyway.

He glances around the place, taking in the little details. The kitchen sink, where some pots and pans lay unwashed. The table with a newspaper, a random magazine, Joe's sketchbook, and the most recent book that Nicky's been reading. The living room table, where some guns were disassembled, probably due to Nile cleaning them. The swords and Andy's labrys on the floor beside it. Booker sees some blankets on the couch, Joe's jacket slung over the back of a chair and gets teary-eyed. He had hoped that he'd get this chance to make things right. But even that, he's too afraid to do. He didn't even know where to begin making things right. Maybe in another 50 years he'd finally figure it out. For now, Booker things he should go.

"Where are you going?"

Booker jumps and whirls around. He blinks at Andy, Nicky, and Joe standing there, watching him. Nile is nowhere to be found. "I'm--right here," he stammers, afraid to admit that he's thinking of leaving. Of course he fails to fool them, not with the way they're just standing there, with raised eyebrows. "I should finish my sentence," he then confesses.

"Why?" Nicky asks, frowning further.

"Why what?" Booker returns, unsure as to why they don't get it.

"Why are you trying to run away?" Joe clarifies.

Booker opens his mouth then closes it again, stunned and confused. "I'm..." But even as he starts to deny it, he knows that it's true. He is trying to run away. "I just think that it would be better for you guys if I'm not around still," he explains. It's a lame excuse and he knows it, but he doesn't know what to say otherwise. He wants them to be happy and he knows that he's not doing things right to make that happen.

"What about you?" Nicky presses. "Would that be better for you?"

Booker looks away and around the kitchen just to avoid their imploring gazes. He closes his eyes as he says, "I just miss you guys and you guys are right there, but I can't do anything about it."

“Booker,” Andy gently calls, her voice closer. He opens his eyes and takes a step back because they were close enough to touch. She raises her hands, showing him that she wants to touch him, wants to cup his face. “May I?” she asks.

Booker takes another step back, shaking his head. “I can’t,” he whispers when he sees the way Joe and Nicky frown. "I shouldn't."

"Booker," Andy whispers, sounding sad, but she drops her hands back to her sides. "We're hurt. You hurt us and we're still hurting. That's a fact. But it's also true that we hurt you and we're sorry for that. Those two things don't cancel each other out, however. But we can come back to each other and make things better. That way, you can come back to us and we can take care of you and love you the way you need to be."

"I know," Booker agrees, voice raspy. "I understand. I will always be sorry for what I did." He looks at Andy and then at Joe and then at Nicky. "And I know that it will never be enough," he admits. He takes a few more steps back until he hits the table. "Which is why I can't let you touch me."

Booker gets it now, what was going on with the whole touching thing.

"Why not?" Nicky asks, almost demanding in a desperate attempt to understand.

"Because," Booker says, voice soft, looking at the floor. He owes them this much. "Because I don't want it if I can't keep it. And I know I can't because I'm not even supposed to be here yet. I can't even begin to earn it yet."

There's a relief in letting that out. Booker's been carrying it for so long in his heart, it's become so heavy. Along with his grief for his family, there wasn't room for anything else. This, though, letting it out, saying it out loud, he feels lighter because of it. Maybe, now, there's more space for other things. He runs a hand through his hair, finally looking up at them. There's sadness on their faces and Booker is sorry that he made them sad again.

"I should go," Booker says, pushing himself off the table. He moves around them, but Joe goes after him and grabs his arm. He flinches at the heat from Joe's palm.

Joe lets him go, raising his hand to show that he's sorry he grabbed him. "Sorry," he vocalizes. "But you can't go, Book. We may have been neglectful in the past--"

"You weren't," Booker interjects. He's not going to have them thinking that any of this is their fault. No matter what, there is no excuse for betrayal. "Don't think that."

"Okay," Joe gives in. "But I think leaving you by yourself right now isn't the answer. We just got you back and now you want to leave again? Did you think we wouldn't care?"

Booker doesn't say anything because that's exactly what he thought. "It's not like we've been friends since I got back," he reminds him. "And I get that. I understand why. But maybe we're not ready for this."

"We are," Nicky declares and it sounds resolute, like it's something he's been thinking about it for a while. "We are sorry that we haven't... we haven't dealt with this in the best way. We will try to be better." He pauses and Booker meets his gaze. "Please don't go, Booker. We will try harder."

"I don't want you to try," Booker tells him, shaking his head. "I don't want this to be a chore. I don't want--"

Joe crashes into him. Booker holds himself and Joe so that he doesn't stumble to the floor and then he drops his hands back to his sides. "It's not a chore," Joe says, pressing his face into Booker's neck. He inhales as he feels Joe's breath caressing his skin. "You're not a chore," he repeats.

They stay like that for a bit. Joe doesn't let him go, doesn't move. He's clinging onto Booker like it's something he's been wanting to do for a long time, like he'd forgotten what it was like to hold him and now that he's able to, he's remembering it all over again. Booker lets him, but doesn't return the hug. He can feel every part of their bodies that are touching and it's taking everything in Booker not to cry. It's been a long time since anyone's held him like this, like he's not some middle-aged, grieving man, but like he's someone worth loving.

Shortly after, Nicky approaches them and hugs Booker from the back. He buries his face on the other side of Booker's neck. Andy hugs him, all three of them, from the side, wrapping her arms around Joe and Nicky, her face on Nicky's hair.

"You can keep it, Booker," Andy says. "You can keep us."

"Please keep us," Joe adds, sniffling.

Booker takes a shuddering breath and lifts his hands from where they're crush to his sides. Maybe he can let himself have this now. Maybe it's time that he fully lets things go and believe that he deserves to be happy, that he deserves this family. Maybe he can let himself be kept, be taken cared of, be loved. He wraps an arm around Andy, resting his hand on Joe's back. His other arm and hand, he rests on Nicky's, where it's grabbing Joe's back. Booker lets go and gives in. He presses a kiss on each of Andy's and Joe's head and on whatever he could reach of Nicky's forehead and cries.

The mood is noticeably lighter the next morning. Or, at least, Booker feels lighter. He wakes up that morning with all of them wrapped around each other, even Nile, who had joined in once the crying had stopped. It was a bit harder to get up that morning, what with Joe and Nicky entangling themselves with him. But he had done it and had freshened up so he can start breakfast. Maybe something more special today, something to commemorate families and forgiveness.

Booker is still unsure how he can deserve this. He's certain that he will still have moments of doubt, although, maybe, hopefully, it will lessen with time, but it's something he'll have to keep working on. For now, he is grateful and he really wants to try to make things work this time. He'll probably have his moments of sadness and grief and there will be days, where he will berate himself, yet again, for what he's done to this family, but he'll make the most of it. He has to. He can't lose them again. He won't lose the only family he will ever have in his long life.

"Pancakes?"

Booker smiles and glances at where Joe is standing by the table. "Pancakes," he confirms. "Thought we'd have some comfort food, something that Nile would enjoy."

"I'm sure she'd love it," Joe says, suddenly much closer. He sidles up to Booker, puts an arm around his waist, and kisses the side of his head. Booker shudders and Joe smiles, kissing him on the cheek this time. "Okay?" he asks, rubbing his hand up and down Booker's side.

Booker swallows and nods. "Okay," he croaks.

It's more than okay. He can't believe how he deprived himself of this. More than anything, Booker can't believe that he gets to have this now, that he gets to have them back in his life and gets to keep all the touches and the affection and the love. He's relieved that he's more open about it now and that they are accepting him back, despite everything his done.

"Are you sure?" Joe presses, lifting his hand and arm from Booker's waist so that he's not touching him.

Booker turns to Joe and looks at him and all the perfections and imperfections of his face. He can't believe that he gets to look at him and not see disappointment. "Sure," he confirms with a nod. He tilts his head and then he kisses Joe on the nose. "And grateful," he adds. Booker looks into Joe's eyes and hopes that Joe can see how much he means it.

Joe wrinkles his nose and then laughs. "Whatever you need, Book," he tells him, wrapping his arms around him so that they could hug.

Booker has finished with breakfast preparation by the time Nicky, Andy, and Nile all make it to the kitchen area. Everyone seems to be enjoying the morning, as they all help themselves to the breakfast that Booker has prepared and chatting with each other, and that's really all Booker can hope for. He watches as Joe and Nicky laugh at something the other said, as Nile helps herself to two servings of pancakes, and as Andy leans back in her seat and looks at Booker with a contented look on her face and something tightens and eases in his chest at the same time. He loves these people. He always has, no matter how many mistakes he's done along the way, and now he's happy. They're happy.

Andy raises an eyebrow, gives him a small smile and mouths, "welcome back."

Booker nods and turns his gaze back to his plate, blinking the tears away. He startles when he feels a hand on his, Nicky's, and a squeeze on his shoulder, Nile. He looks up and smiles at them, beams, knowing that the tears are obvious. He's so happy. He feels loved and accepted and forgiven.

He's home.


End file.
